


Lately

by shadowsamurai



Category: Waking the Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 23:30:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowsamurai/pseuds/shadowsamurai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows something is wrong, knows it as well as he knows his own name. He just hopes he's wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lately

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be cryptic again, but I don't want to give anything away! This is an alternative look to an aspect of season 8, hence the AU tag. All lyrics used belong to Stevie Wonder.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)

 

WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD-WtD

*Lately I have had the strangest feeling  
With no vivid reason here to find  
Yes the thought of losing you's been  
Hanging round my mind*

He sits in the car, his forearms resting on the steering wheel, wondering whether to get out of the vehicle or just carry on driving. She won't have noticed he is there; she is noticing things less and less of late. Especially where he is concerned, and it isn't like her. In fact, the more things change, the more he wonders if he ever really knew her at all. She was so beautiful before; still is, of course, but the changes she has undergone over the past few years has left him wondering who she has changed for. And lately, he is beginning to think it isn't him. First the hair, then the make-up, and then the clothes. He's glad she has grown in confidence with her own body, glad he has helped with that, but now he wonders if she will toss him aside so easily, having outgrown him. It's a distinctly unpleasant possibility. Not that she would ever treat him in such a fashion; if the day came when he would have to let her go, he knows she would be as upset as he would, knows it would hurt her to do it. But if it's what she wants, he knows he isn't going to stop her. He loves her far too much for that.

*Far more frequently you're wearing perfume  
With, you say, no special place to go  
But when I ask will you be coming back soon  
You don't know, never know*

He meets her at the front door, him going in, her going out. It seems to happen with startling regularity. Even though they work together, he feels like he never sees her, feels like he's always in competition with someone else. It's never been that way, always just been the two of them, stronger together than apart. Even though their relationship is secret – not even their own team knows about it, and that is a feat in and of itself – he doesn't worry about losing her. He never has...until now. He isn't sure why he feels so insecure so suddenly; he just knows there's a gnawing at his heart that isn't going away, no matter how many reassurances she gives him. And now that she's off out again, dressed up somewhat fancy, a distinct fragrance on her skin that he didn't buy her, he can't help but wonder...where did it all go wrong?

*Lately I've been staring in the mirror  
Very slowly picking me apart;  
Trying to tell myself I have no reason  
With your heart*

Getting ready for bed, he catches his reflection and can't help but stare. The face staring back is like a stranger, the eyes dull, more grey hairs everyday, and more lines on his face than he can ever remember seeing before. His faults are numerous, the list of problems long, but somehow, she has always managed to see past all of that. Is she now tired of the effort it must take her to see the man beneath the reputation? He does wonder. And he starts to wonder if he has any claim to her at all.

*Just the other night while you were sleeping  
I vaguely heard you whisper someone's name*

He's in bed when she returns and she doesn't attempt to wake him, if she even believes he is asleep, which he isn't. He rarely sleeps any more. She's cold when she climbs under the covers, but she makes no attempt to move towards him to warm herself, not like she used to. She stays on her side of the bed, the empty space between them more of a barrier than the Great Wall of China. And though he wants to try, wants to make the effort to salvage the relationship and reach for her, he can't bring himself to. She imposed the distance between them, so only she could lessen it...if she wanted to. And then, just as his thoughts become deafening in the silence, he hears her mumble something. And though *it* isn't clear, he thinks *his* vision is starting to become less clouded.

*But when I ask you of the thoughts  
You're keeping  
You just say nothing's changed*

He tries to talk to her the next day, but it's impossible. It is starting to become a regular thing, this silence. He tries the day after and the day after that. The days turn into weeks of the same pattern, until one day he *knows*. The physical pain in his chest, a manifestation of the emotional turmoil he is feeling, is almost too much, almost brings him to his knees. He sees them together, that's what clinches it. Sees the way she leans into him, sees the almost predatory look on his face. And it kills him. Yet still she pretends, and still he tries to talk to her, giving her ample opportunity to take the easy way out. She doesn't.

And then it happens, the day he can't take any more, the day when the pain and the struggle becomes a burden he can no longer bear, not even for her. And so he announces his plans to go, his decision coming as something of a shock to his colleagues. The other man – it's the only way he can think of him – questions him, but he can't answer. He just looks at him, the muscles in his jaw clenched tightly.

*Well, I'm a man of many wishes  
Hope my premonition misses,  
But what I really feel  
My eyes won't let me hide  
Cause they always start to cry  
Cause this time could mean goodbye*

There's so much he wants to say, but he knows that if he opens his mouth, he'll never shut it again, and he'll end up saying far too much he'll regret. So he stays silent, just stares at him. Then his gaze shifts sideways slightly and softens as it comes to rest on her. So much he wants to say as well, but he won't utter a word. He doesn't need to; his expression and his eyes say it all.

*Farewell*

Boyd looks at Grace. "Do you know why he's leaving?"

She nods and sighs sadly, watching Spencer's retreating back. "I do."

*Goodbye*

FIN


End file.
